Jason Todd Doesn’t Want To Spend More Time Than He Needs To At The Manor. He’s There Solely Because

Me desperately trying to hold onto my love for literature:

Shakespeare had the audacity to include so much swordplay in his plays cough, Romeo and Juliet cough and kill off half the gay characters. He just had to make it a tragedy, as if we didn't already have Hamlet to deal with.

Having been friends with Nora all his life, prepared Ren for the absolute chaos that was Jaune Arc, and you can't tell me otherwise.

I adore you, thank you!

technology and me have a love-hate relationship

Ok this is a call for help, hi world. Anyway, if anyone, and I mean anyone is good at making academic posters. specifically on word, please help.

desperate times call for desperate measures and I am picking at straws trying to figure out how to make this poster. I cant even move the pictures around just please! My inbox is open for any and all advice. I'll even take a step-by-step guide as if I'm three.

please.

i'm just a 2 year old pressing random buttons, I cannot.

Do I run away from angsty stories and shows as if it burns me? yes. Will most of the plots that come to my mind be fueled by angst? also yes.

But in other news, I'm such a whore for hurt/comfort.

"She healed him, replacing his heart with hers. He left, leaving behind a broken, wounded marionette. Never to return."

--This Isn't how It Ends

Library Convos: 1

Draco: So you used a polyjuice potion to turn into Crabbe and Goyle, of all people

Harry: That's what I said

Draco: And in the final battle everyone turned into you?

Harry: Safety in numbers?

Draco: Right right, how many people did you say drank the potion?

Harry: Um, seven?

Draco: and they all changed into different clothes, seeing [eyes him]... you?

Harry: Yes?

Draco: [gets up, about to walk out of the library without a word]

Harry: Where are you going?

Draco: to rip the tongues off of the people who saw my boyfriend of course.

His arms were my home; in his eyes I saw stars, a million light years away from me. He too has been taken from me, reaching heights I can only dream to reach. But why would I leave Earth when your body lays here besides me? When dreaming is worthless when my hand no longer holds yours. Why should I live on when you're the only star I wish to see. Open your eyes for me, one last time. One last time. Let me see the jewels reflected in your eyes -- staring only at me.

The stars Tell Their Story 

Slowburn in Harry Potter walked so Miraculous Ladybug could run

Hermione and Ron's relationship after prisoner of Azkaban was the foundation for:''We are just friends,'' trope.

Adrien Agreste clearly took notes.

Cruel Monsters

Locked up from the moment he was born; from the moment his cries deafened the doctor's ears, stripped of all his rights since the day he could walk: His names, his possessions, his very identity, stolen. His existence erased by those sworn to look after him. They sealed him away in the darkest corner of the mansion. The maids, the butlers, the younger children were told the third floor was cursed. No one ever dared to look for him. His cries were known to be the cursed singing of a banshee, the door rattling, labelled the persistent attacks of a vengeful demon. He became labelled a malevolent phantom. Forgotten as the years went by

That was the life of Ares Vaughn-Fallen.

Love. Kindness. Warmth, were feelings experienced only in books. Anger. Hatred. Sadness -- those were the emotions which spilled from the pages of writing, down the bleeding walls, sliding up his body; drowning him in its grasp.

He knew nothing except the feeling of the hard mattress pressing against his back. His eyes knew no colour except the white of the walls around him, a shade darkened by the black curtains that covered the windows, blocking his source of light. He couldn’t remember the last time he had seen the sky. Felt the sun's rays blinding him. He remembered falling asleep, smelling his rotting flesh. He didn’t think he would miss the plain walls, the haunting curtains, but as his eyes refused to open, felt his physical body get dragged out with little care, he wished to escape the dark world forced upon him. A cold, unrelenting darkness.

His routine changed.

A scream woke him from his slumber. The darkness had gone. As his eyes locked with those of his saviour, he remembered how bright the sun truly was.

Lost Chances

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader Synopsis: Unrequited love. Will they won't they? (they won't <3). A sprinkle of angst. WC: 853

Was it his smile that first caught your eye? Was it his mind, his constant need to know more, coupled with his joy to share that knowledge with others? Or was it when you finally realised your feelings for him, that you began noticing the little things; how your heart thundered in your chest whenever his face lit up. It’s not clear when your feelings for him changed, but you can trace how it grew stronger as the years passed. And while you can’t pinpoint the moment that your feelings for him grew, you can pinpoint the moment he, unknowingly, broke it.  

First there was Lila Archer. You’d noticed how she’d looked at him, how he looked at her. You were privy to the teasing remarks from Morgan, but you brushed it off, tuning it out, believing that nothing would happen – Spencer would never breach that line with a client after all, right? Then why were they in the pool together? Why were they out of breath? Why did he stay back to personally say goodbye, and oh, he kept her magazine cover. 

Then there was Austin, and his charm pulled her in, just like it did to you. And you can't blame any of them – Lila or Austin – for noticing him, for falling for him. He had a way of pulling you into his orbit. If only the force would weaken to ease the pain in your heart. You found yourself wishing you didn’t like him as much. 

But there was no need for it, luck seemed to be turning in your favour, and you believed for the first time, that just as you were being pulled into his orbit, that he was being pulled into yours. He began looking at you the way he looked at everyone that came before you. 

The lingering looks, hands brushing against each other (he’d pull away apologetically, a shy smile curving on his lips), but as it continued, he’d let the touch linger longer, before pulling away. Then came the soft whispers. He’d lean down, just to ask you normal questions about the case, then it was about a book you talked about days ago, then it was asking if you were free to accompany him home, or to dinner after a tough case. And with every smile, every look, every late night conversation, you were slowly building the nerve to confess.

The day finally came. You’d finally built up the nerve to confess and – he blew you off. You knew he didn't mean to, but he just had to go home that night, his migraines were getting worse. You understood, stumbling over your words, stepping back, letting him walk past you.

 Again and again he walked past you. There was always some interruption, his headaches, someone walking in, another case. You thought of sending a text, but there was too much that needed to be said that a text felt impersonal. 

But the reasons slowly died away. Spencer was getting better, his migraines did not bother him as much. Then why didn't you confess? Were you too late?

There was someone else. 

When a new obstacle breaks down, another emerges, and that emerged in the form of the mystery girl.

His once comforting voice now made you bolt and run, yet nowhere was far enough. The fondness in his voice followed you, reminding you that you weren’t his choice. His smiles, his laugh, his affection weren’t yours to claim. Besides you couldn't run very far, not when he’d find you after his phone calls to share his joy with you. How could you turn him away when he was so happy? When he chose you as his confidante, his closest friend, the person he chose to share his joys and sorrows with. Just not his love. 

Why couldn't it be you? You tried helping with his migraines, but Spencer brushed you away, saying he had tried the method before, but thanked you for trying to help. She was the one that helped. 

Maybe this was a sign. Maybe you’d lost your chance. Maybe you had cemented your part in his life, and you just had to accept it. You were his friend, you were thankful to be one of his closest. 

So when his world comes tumbling down, and he needs a shoulder to cry on, you’re there. You’ve always been there. 

He loved her after all, she was the one he chose, the one he wanted, so you stepped away. You accepted your fate, locking your feelings away because you knew if you opened up now, nothing would be the same between the two of you again. You lost your chance – if only you’d built up the nerve sooner. But you could move on from this, it may not be soon, but you could say goodbye to your feelings for Reid, and one day, your pain would lessen, because you finally accepted the truth, your role in his life. 

But just for this moment, you held him in your arms, his grief merging with yours, knowing that this is all you’ll ever be.